


A Crooked Spark of Light

by jmandrake



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5695990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmandrake/pseuds/jmandrake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey is in every nightmare he has, and he can't get her out of his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crooked Spark of Light

His blade crackles in the snow, a crooked spark of light. 

Until now, it has never mattered much that his saber is barely contained, an imperfect thing he barely managed to piece together. It used to feel _true_ , somehow, like he had coaxed the Force out of its shell, bound it to his will. A totem, a trophy. _His._

Now, when he looks at his saber, he begins to shake. He feels the schism within it, like a hairline fracture, running through the blade and up his spine. He thinks it will shake out of his hands; he’ll be fumbling around on the ground while her shadow falls over him, her fury rolling through him, a long, unbroken wave of sound. 

~

Snoke, in an amused whisper he must lean in to hear, says, _You dream of her, don’t you?_

Ren says, _Only nightmares._

~

In his dreams, she is more silhouette than girl, outlined in blurry chalk strokes, larger than she ought to be. Her voice loops through his mind, a judgment–- _you are afraid, you are afraid, you are afraid._ You are, too, he wants to say, but he doesn’t believe it. Not quite. At least here, she is sure and strong and ghastly, a flame he cannot quench. She surrounds him in a spinning blur of blue. Her saber cracks across his knuckles, his knees, searing through flesh. Sometimes, when he tries to meet her gaze, he only sees a long black slash where her eyes should be. 

_A monster in a mask, she’d called him once. He’s still running from one._

~

In life, she is remarkably clear. His blade jumps like the pulse of an electrostaff, throwing off his balance, but hers is crisp, perfect. Between blows, he tries to find her limits, not just the extent of her skill, but the places where her body ends and everything else starts. He grabs her wrist, spins her to one side. It reminds him that she is physical, finite. She cannot stalk him in his sleep. 

She growls low and kicks away from the ground, throwing herself down on him. Blue, double-bladed light pushes toward him like a pair of wings. He goes down on one knee, throwing up his saber with a cry. It is all instinct now. He cannot think around her, cannot plan ahead. He can only react. 

She breathes hard, her weight pushing him further into the snow. 

“Why fight?” she yells. His grip almost slips completely. “The Order has left you! You’re on your own!” 

He knows that is not true. _You are never alone in the Force. My power is greater than those … weaklings who ran._ Et cetera. Et cetera. He could say all that, but it takes most of his concentration just to hold her back. 

When he looks into her eyes, he doesn’t see a swath of darkness anymore–-just light, violet, electric, galaxies.

“You …” he says. “You’re here.”

He means to say she is _here_ , like him. That she is trapped, too, rescue long, _long_ out of the picture. That no one will come for her, just like on Jakku. That he is standing between her and the Dark, that he will die before he allows her to escape, anywhere. 

What he says again, softly, his arms weakening: “ _You’re_ here.” 

_I am not on my own. You followed me. You found me. You’re **here**._

Something flickers in her eyes. He has no time to comprehend it. She wheels away, plunging her saber into the snow with a snarl of frustration. He feels drawn toward her, the soft pulse of her shadow tugging at him. 

Something in her has altered. She’s picked through his mind, found all the unsaid things. His saber rolls out of his hands. His nightmare, but real this time. _Kill me_ , he prays. _If you think it right_.

She does not pick up her blade. She squats down beside him, arms stretched over her knees. He watches her, unsure if he’s even breathing. 

“No one’s coming,” she says flatly. He thinks she just needs to hear it for herself, accept it. 

He gives her the faintest of nods. He cannot run, has no desire to move from this spot at her feet. He is possessed, like the first time he felt the Dark swallow him whole.

The corner of her mouth lifts, almost imperceptibly. Snow swirls around them. She taps a finger under his jaw. 

“Don’t be afraid,” she says. Her eyes close, but he feels as blinded as before. Her hands close around his, and his heart double-times. “I feel it, too.”

~

Snoke laughs. _You do not know nightmares._

Ren says, _Maybe I don’t._


End file.
